The 76th Hunger Games SYOT (CLOSED)
by Brocasica
Summary: Katniss didn't make it in time to save Peeta in the 74th Hunger Games, and didn't win the Quarter Quell, considering it was a normal Quell, because there is no rebellion happening. Snow executed Heavensbee because the rebellion flopped in on itself. What happens when tributes from other Districts start training? What happens when another Gamemaker is chosen?
1. Chapter 1

**THE HUNGER GAMES SYOT!**

**Submit your own tribute! **

**I will accept 14 characters, so people dont have their character/s dying in the bloodbath. I will only do interviews, reapings etc for some, but I will do a section of the Games in each character's view. You can find the application form in my bio! This is my first SYOT, BTW. :D**

**(THIS IS WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF KATNISS HADN'T GOTTEN TO PEETA IN TIME IN THE 74TH AND PEETA DIED, OK? HATE ME BUT IM SORRY)**

**76th Annual Hunger Games**

"Show me your ideas." I tell the man sitting in front of him at the desk.  
"I... I've got an idea... to make the... the... arena based on a Greek God," What ever this man is like, he has a good idea. "Carry on,"

"And I was thinking... Uh, the first one could be about Dionysus." He tells me.

"Please clarify,"

"The God of wine, parties and festivals, madness, chaos, drunkenness, drugs, and ecstasy,"

"That's a long list,"

"Yes, I know. Would you please consider it?"

"I have to consider everyone. Good day, Mr... Uh, whats your name?"

"Please, President Snow, call me Gilroy," Gilroy walks out. He's hired. Only if he can be a little more confident.


	2. Chapter 2

Everything is going as planned. The buildings are being put up, and the swampy land outside of the maze-like building looked as gross as ever, and the droopy willows were going to make a great hiding spot for someone. As for the cornucopia, well, all the items would be placed on the day of the Hunger Games.

But the real entertainment is going to be when the tributes see the rows and rows of glass jars, filled with things they haven't seen before. These Games will be the best yet.


	3. District 1 Reaping

**I STILL NEED TRIBUTES! PLEASE!**

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*****Amethyst Clowney's POV*****

My eyes snap open, and I get a weird feeling in my stomach. Why? I realise this is the day. The day I volunteer. I'm ready. I'm ready for whatever the Gamemakers throw at me. I smile at nothing, and sit up in my bed. Yawning, I look over at the window at the right side of my bed, and realise this will be the last time I see my room. With it's purple walls, luxurious wooden cabinets, desk and bookcase, and my puffy armchair. I wonder if we will move this stuff from here to the Victors Village when we move in. Hopefully. I love this room. I hop out of bed, and arrange the light blue covers in some sort of orderly fashion, knowing someone will be coming in here in a couple of weeks, to either move my stuff to the Victors Village, or to the storage room. "Amethyst! Breakfast is ready!" My 16-year-old sister, Dorsey calls to me through the door. Ooh yay! Breakfast! "Coming, sis," I tell her. I walk downstairs to see my Mum walking around our massive dining table, putting plates on the placemats. "Hey, Victor!" Dad calls to me, sitting at the table, reading yet another book. His nickname for me came about when I received the message from the Training Centre that I am volunteering this year. "Morining, Dad," I mumble, still not completely awake yet. "Eggs on toast! Ypur favourite!" Mum tells me. "Thanks! When I win, we'll be able to afford bacon!"

"I can't wait for that!" Dad remarks.  
"I'll volunteer when I'm old and good enough to!" Dorsey tells the table, where we are now sitting. It doesn't look like there are many spaces taken, and there aren't. The table is meant for a lot of people, and it often has a lot of people eating at it, as my parents often throw parties, they're the only ones that can afford it. My parents are loaded, and we are pampered because of it. They own one of the factories in town, and don't actually have to work! It's amazing! So that means I have time to go to the Training Centre, and as a result, I'm awesome with a bow and arrow! I leave my parents to it, telling them I'm going to get changed for the reaping. I walk through the hallway, stopping to glance at the many pictures gracing the walls of my house. One of me, smiling at the dinner table, one of Dorsey, playing with something outside when she was younger. I laugh lightly at the memory, and walk into my room. I pull open the doors of my wardrobe, and see the dress I've waiting to wear for a long time. light blue, with a purple hem, and purple flowers around my midsection. Mum and Dad got it for me for my 18th birthday, along with many other things. I put the dress on, and am happy that it isn't flimsy like the one I got for Dorsey when she turned 16 this year. I run a brush through my black hair, and am surprised that it still remains wavy. I like having wavy hair! I put on light purple ballet flats (I wonder what ballet is) and step out the door. "Mum, Dad, what's ballet?" I ask them, as we walk out the front door. "Ballet? What on earth made you think about that?" Mum asks me, surprised.

"Well, my shoes are called ballet flats, and I wondered!" I tell her.  
"It's a type of music, I think, or dance or something like that. Your problem is how dramatic you are when you volunteer, not what some ancient dance is!" Dad tells me.  
"Oh, ok"  
*** Lux Platinum's POV***  
"Your hair is going to go brown in the arena! This is a tragedy!" My ever-worrying mother tells me.  
"I think the last thing they will be worrying about is my hair," I tell her.  
"That's not true! If you see a tribute who's hair is originally blonde, and is going brow, you know something's up!" She screeched at me.  
"Look, I'll get the prep team to colour it for me! Surely they can do that!"  
"Fine. Make them colour it blonde. We can't have a brunette in a family of blonde's, especially considering they'll be interviewing us in the final eight!"  
"I will. Goodbye for now, I'm going to get my finger pricked. I walk over to the 17-year-old's section, and position myself somewhere where I can easily get out, and volunteer. Because I'm volunteering this year. I'm finally considered good enough. The escort walks up to the stage in front of the Justice Building, and smiles at us. "Welcome, welcome, welcome!" He cries into the microphone. He has electric blue hair, and seems relatively normal once you get over that! Apart from his accent, though. Can't get over that. No one can. I glance to my right, and catch the eyes of Amethyst, the girl who is also volunteering, and smile. She is going to die. Which is a shame. Because she is really pretty. The escort shows us the film, which is different than it was a couple of years ago, because there was a hint of a rebellion, but the Capitol contained it. The escort now walks over to the glass ball with the girl's names in. "Amethyst Clowney!" The crowd laughs, because she is the volunteer for this year. She laughs, and runs up the stairs. "Any volunteers?" The escort asks.  
"I am the designated volunteer for this year!" Amethyst tells him. "Well, OK then! For the boys!" He walks over to the other glass ball, and I prepare myself. "Michael Erickson!"  
I don't even give Michael a chance. "I volunteer at tribute!" I yell, as I walk up the stairs. "Name?"  
"Lux Platinum, and I'm gonna win this year!" The crowd starts cheering at me, and at Amethyst. These Games are going to be awesome!


	4. Info about Dionysus!

While I wait to be messaged back, here is some information about the God I am basing these Games on. (DISCLAIMER: I GOT THIS FROM WIKIPEDIA! COPY AND PASTE! THIS IS NOT A SCHOOL ASSIGNMENT SO I DIDN'T BOTHER PUTTING IT INTO MY OWN WORDS)

**Dionysus (Pronounced: Die-own-isis)**

Dionysus was the god of the grape harvest, winemaking and wine, of ritual madness and ecstasy in Greek mythology. His name in Linear B tablets as di-wo-nu-so (KH Gq 5) shows that he may have been worshipped as early as c. 1500–1100 BC by Mycenean Greeks: other traces of the Dionysian-type cult have been found in ancient Minoan Crete.[2] His origins are uncertain, and his cults took many forms; some are described by ancient sources as Thracian, others as Greek.[3][4][5] In some cults, he arrives from the east, as an Asiatic foreigner; in others, from Ethiopia in the South. He is a god of epiphany, "the god that comes", and his "foreignness" as an arriving outsider-god may be inherent and essential to his cults. He is a major, popular figure of Greek mythology and religion, and is included in some lists of the twelve Olympians. Dionysus was the last god to be accepted into Mt. Olympus. He was the youngest and the only one to have a mortal mother.[6] His festivals were the driving force behind the development of Greek theatre.


	5. District 2 Reaping

**Thanks to all the people who sent in more tributes! I need no more! Also, I will write the Tribute Parade and the Private sessions in front of the Gamemakers in the POV of the head Gamemaker! I will do another SYOT when I have finished this one, so if you wan to, you can reserve a spot! Disclaimer: I really wish I owned The Hunger Games, but I don't! I also don't own most of these characters!**

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*****Kestrel Ravenheart's POV*****

I can't believe he would do something like this. Boss is meant to volunteer, not me! NOT me! But I have to do it. I have to. I know I'm nearly seventeen, I know that. But it's not my place to volunteer! Especially when I know the Boss can win! I growl at nothing under my breath, and Lillicon squirms in her sleep. She's so pure! How could such an innocent creature be destroyed by Boss's wrath? He's good enough to be in the Games! I know it! He could win! But i have to do this. For Clove. Somehow avenge her death, her death that that Katniss Everdeen played a major part in. Katniss makes me sick. No one good ever wins the Games, and Katniss Everdeen is a good example of that. I look up to the ceiling, in the room I share with my baby sister, Lillicon, and think about what my absence would mean for my family. If I don't win, that will mean one less mouth to feed, but also one less person providing for my family. I think about my little sister, and tears spring in my eyes. She never even got to meet Lillicon. Ugh. I have to stop thinking of my sisters, and think about my strategy for the Games. Mum and Dad have no idea I'm supposed to be volunteering, and I don't plan on telling them anytime soon, because I know it'd scare them, especially because of the reason. I don't want to do that. The last thing I want to do is freak out my parents. Especially after all they've done for me. I walk up to the box holding my clothes, and pick out my best clothes, which aren't much. Living in a career District doesn't promise you riches. If I win, my family's troubles will be over. Forever. I want that so bad. The only thing that being a victor won't guarantee is keeping Lillicon out of the Games. That's the only thing I want guaranteed. After Clove died in the Games... Well, I don't want another family member dying because of the Capitol, directly or indirectly. Sighing, I pull out my best black polo shirt, which has holes in it on the front, and a pair of dark grey short. These look like mourning clothes, and in a way, they are. I'm going to certain death. After a trip to the Capitol, of course. "Ahaahhaha," comes a familar laugh, the only laugh I can love. "Ahh! Lilli!" I exclaim to my little sister. She's so young. It would have taken nothing for Boss to kill her. I have to protect her, for her and my family's sake. I pick up Lillicon up from her shabbily made cot. It keeps her from falling out, not that the fall would hurt her, it's not even six inches from the ground, and she falls asleep in it. That's enough. I make baby noises at her, and she shows me her pink gums in what I assume to be a smile. I make the same face at her, and she laughs at me.

*****Anissa Beaumon's POV*****

This is the day. The day that starts my long road to fame. The road to fame that I have to work so fucking hard to get to. Oh well. A great time to act like the children from my school. Acting. The only thing keeping me from getting sent to the nearest doctor. My robotic, familiar actions, words, and 'emotions'. Pretending is second nature, only after surviving, of course. I should start pretending, so I can get in the habit by this afternoon, and so no one thinks I'm different. No one can. Not until the actual Games, at least. Slow, robotic movements to start. _Get out of bed. _My feet touch the polished wood. _Lift yourself up. _My weight is transferred onto my feet. _Put one foot in front of the other one, and walk to the kitchen. _The kitchen door comes into view. "Morning Anissa," Hope adresses me. "Morning Mother," I reply to her. If I respected her somewhat, I would maybe, just maybe address her as Mother more often. She knows I only call her the name most children call their mothers when I'm trying to be like them. That's very rare. Like today, when I know I'm going to have to volunteer. The illegal Training centre chose me. I have gone there since I was 14, when I was finally allowed to be a normal child, and attend a normal school. With that came the Training Centre, because Hope won the Games. She was lucky enough not to get reaped for the Quarter Quell last year, when the rules changed dramatically. Past Victors were reaped. Victors like Katniss Everdeen, Finnick Odair, Johanna Mason, Cashmere and Gloss McCall (Brother and sister) and District 2's Brutus Coleman and Enobaria Parrish all went into the Games. I was clinging on to the hope that Hope would get into the Games, especially considering what she did to me when I was young, and still had feelings. Feelings. The word is foreign to me now. A feeling is for a 'normal' person, a person not corrupted by the wrath of their own mother. "Morning, Anissa." Father. My trainer in the Training Centre. "Morning, Dad!" I exclaim cheerfully. "Such a nice morning, pity what day it is, though, hey?" I ask my family. Father seems a little taken aback at my change in attitude to yesterday, which was a normal day for me. A lack of emotions, genuine actions, and care for anyone I come across. And it's probably not going to change. No treatment in the Capitol would be able to cure the irrepearable damage done to my brain when I was five. Caused by my mother, who was driven into a deep phase of anger, and sadness because of the death of my twin brother, who was three months old when he died. Died a sudden 'cot death', as my parents tell me. No one knows the real cause of his premature death. It must have been that that made me weak when I was young. I often cried myself to sleep at night, I got incredibly emotional at the littlest things, and I started bawling when I scraped my knee. In a way I guess I'm kind of glad I'm different now, it makes me a stronger person. Mentally, I guess, I'm stronger than anyone out there. Nothing frazzles me anymore, I don't get heartbroken like most of the girls in my school, and most people tell me I'm a good friend! They mustn't be good friends themselves, because they know nothing about me. Nothing. Except that I can turn anything into a weapon, I know every poisinous and edible berry out there, and I am a martial arts master. Literally. I had to have some way to let out my energy. Martial arts were that way. I somehow subconsciously ate my breakfast, which consisted of thick toast, eggs, and some sort of meat from a pig. It tasted good, and I walk to my room again to get changed for the reaping. I put on a purple skirt that ends at me knees, and a light blue tank top. I think I look good. I brush out my white hair (no joke) and it immediately bounces back into the curls, except they look a little nicer now. I rush to my cupboard, and grab the black sandals Mother got me in an attempt to make me like her more. Not going to work this time. Or ever, considering I'm going into the Hunger Games. If I win, I'm living in the Victor's village. If I lose, well, I refuse to think about that. I have to do my family proud.

*****Kestrel Ravenheart's POV*****

"Come on Kestrel, this is your last one!"  
"I know! But that doesn't disguise the fact that I could be reaped. My name's in there 30 times."  
"That doesn't mean you will get reaped! This is a big District!"  
"That doesn't mean I won't get reaped." I mutter under my breath as I take my place in the line to get my finger pricked, to tell the Capitol I'm here. The Peacekeeper pricks my finger and places the blood from my finger on a piece of paper, and scans it. I walk over to the section for 16-year-old males, and wait. Then she walks up the stage. Etta Cheerie. District 2's new escort. She has bright blue hair, light blue tight clothing, and a purple makeup technique. Pfft. Capitol people. full of money, and all too quick to send kids into the arena. If someone shot them all, I would love that person forever. But I don't see that happening any time soon. "Ladies first!" Etta yells at us. I don't see the need to yell, personally, but oh well, that is a minor problem compared to the bigger one I'm facing. "Ashlyn Nieves!" Ashlyn is the blonde bimbo from the Training Centre, and I hate her. She wouldn't survive the Games. Pity Anissa Beaumon is volunteering this year. As if on cue, Anissa calls out to the audience: "I volunteer as tribute!" Of course.

*****Anissa Beaumon's POV*****

No going back now. I walk up the stairs onto the stage, and say with a big smile on my face into the microphone: "My name is Anissa Beaumon, and I will proudly be your tribute for the 77th Hunger Games!" The crowd cheers for me, they love a volunteer. "Awesome! Great to have some enthusiasm this year! For the boys... we have... "Huber Bishop!" Etta Cheerie Huber starts walking towards the stairs, and I realise, it's that idiot Gau's turn to volunteer this year. But it's not him who tells Etta that he's volunteering. It's one of the members of his 'gang', the one with the scar over his eyebrow. Most of the girls consider him scary, so I do as well, according to everyone. Little do most people know, I actually find him intriguing. Not that I could tell anyone. They'll immediately label me differently to everyone else, and I can't afford that. Before I know it, I am shaking Kestrel's hand, and being shoved into a room in the Justice Building as the Panem anthem blares from the speakers behind me. Kestrel Ravenheart, and Anissa Beaumon from District 2.


	6. District 3 Reaping

*****Roselyn Blade's POV*****

I'm ready for this. I'm lethal, im agile, and I'm ready to kill. If I win this, I'm filthy rich! "Fucking rich!" I laugh out loud. Not that anyone can hear me out in the middle of the forest. Ha. I'd like to see them try and get me. I'd get them is one shot. Not like I can throw a knife with incredible aim or anything! I'm even better than Clove, that District 2 girl from the year before last! I was at my second year of eligibility that year... I would have volunteered last year actually... But it was the Quarter Quell. Past victors went in. I'm not a victor, well, not yet, anyway. Ha! I can't wait for the Games to begin! I rush back to the house my parents left when they left me here, with no word. I hope they watch me win in a couple of weeks. See them crawling to mr when I'm rich. I wouldn't hesitate to bury my knives in their faces. Actually, I probably would... In a way, I'm lucky they let me keep the house. I'm not the only orphan in the District, but most of them have other family members to look after them. I might, I really don't know. If I do, well, they haven't made any attempt to contact me. I've been keeping up with the general housekeeping, while training in the woods behind my house. It looks as though whoever lives here never leaves. I do, I leave. It pains me to be here.

I rush to my room, and pick out the outfit saved especially for nice occasions. I want to have some clothes not too small, or too dirty, I want to look as though I have parents. The outfit is a black shirt, and a light pink floral skirt. The black brings out my tanned skin, and also makes my green eyes look so bright. I've been told I'm good at death stares. I suppose I'm pretty, not that I'd ever admit it. Anyone who has told me so has usually ended up with a broken nose, or black eye. I'm glad my hair is short I don't have to worry about it, it looks kind of scraggly, but that's only because I did it myself. I hate people touching my hair. My only regrets about being in the Games. Someone is going to try touch my hair. Oh well.

I walk into the square, surrounded by children 12-18, and am happy to see they mostly don't look as strong as me. I know why. They don't. I get my finger pricked, and walk over to the 15-year-olds roped out section.

*****Beep Wires' POV*****

My first reaping. My first reaping. They won't reap me, right? They can't! I know it's happened before! But still, They can't! Mum obviously sees me freaking out, and bends down to my level. "Beep, they won't reap you! Can't you see that!?"  
"They still can!" I tell my Mum, shaking my chestnut brown hair at her.  
"Shhh, you have to go. They'll arrest us all otherwise!"  
"I don't wanna go," I tell her, walking towards the Peacekeeper waiting to prick my finger."I just don't want to die..." I trail off as I realise Mum and Dad have gone to the place where all the family members go. I get my finger pricked, which hurts, and go to where the other kids my age go. Small kids my age are standing, most shivering in the cold, and we all suddenly pay attention to the escort, when a squeal comes from the stage. I realise it's only the microphone making that sound. Everyone covers their ears, except me, because I'm used to the sound, I help Dad with his work when I'm not at school. He works for the major factory in town, and knows everything there is to know about electronics, and he even gave me a microchip which I'm supposed to look at when I'm eighteen, and see what he's put on it. I can't open it until then. I wonder if my half-sister who I don't know got one, too. Probably not. My parents don't seem to like her, for whatever reason. They never talk about her, only give me vague answers about her. I audibly sigh, and look up to the stage where the escort rushes on stage. She looks relatively normal, save a bright pink streak in her otherwise platinum blonde hair. 'Welcome, welcome, welcome, District 3! Welcome to the 76th Annual Hunger Games! I welcome you all with a special special film from the Capitol!" _Typical Capitol people_, I think. _Welcoming us to our own District. _The film starts, and I'm amazed at the brutality it is implying. War, skulls, rebellion, then 'peace' and 'happiness', then the Hunger Games. The Hunger Games are a way for the Capitol to ensure the Hunger Games don't happen again, except they don't actually work, because a rebellion nearly happened. Nearly. That 'Girl on Fire' from the 74th and 75th Hunger Games nearly created one when that girl from District 11 died. At least that's what my parents say. They sounded wistful when they told me about the way Katniss' (That's the Girl on Fire's real name) actions in the arena could have affected Panem. Panem is the country we live in, the only place left after the chaos we call the Destruction. Our country is far from perfect, and most of the improvements could be made by the Capitol. But, that's not happening any time soon. I assume President Snow plans on making these Games unforgettable. As the film ends, I'm snapped out of my thinking, and the escort is already walking over to one of the glass balls with my name written once. Once. "Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favour!" I just realise the oddly normal-looking escort girl looks familiar. She reaches her hand into the glass ball, and pulls out a name. There's no one I hope it's not going to be, so I just watch in pure horror as I realise how barbaric the whole thing is. "Mikaelie Hewans!" Mikaelie wanders up to the stage, sure that she's going into the Games, when a voice calls out to the crowd "I volunteer as Tribute!" This is getting too weird for me. No one in District 3 volunteers. The volunteer walks up to the stage, an aura of confidence spilling out into the crowd. "Oh! A volunteer! OK, dear, what's your name?" The escort asks the girl.

*****Roselyn Blade POV*****

"No one calls me 'dear'," I tell Cashmere McCall, our new escort. "I am Roselyn Blade, but you all can call me Blade. With good reason, too." I add. I walk over to where the tributes always stand, and wait patiently, with my tanned hands folded in front of me. "OK! Now for the boys!" Cashmere is eager to make the reaping about her again, and rushes over to the other glass ball.

*****Beep Wires POV*****

The audience is absolutely silent as the escort, I'm sure she's Cashmere, she must have wanted this after she won, reaches a pale hand into the glass ball, and an uneasy feeling is in my stomach. "Beep Wires!" She calls out, and the microphone is squealing again. The people around me are stepping back, so a clear path is shown to me. Tears are threatening to spill out of my eyes, and my hands are clenched in fists. I give up the battle about the tears, and I walk up to the stand. "Ladies and Gentleman, Roselyn Blade, and Beep Wires, our Tributes for the 76th Annual Hunger Games!" Cashmere tells the audience. "Shake hands, please." I shake hands with Roselyn, and she looks somewhat familiar. The anthem starts, and we are shoved into a room at the back of the stage. There is a dark blue couch, and as I am shoved into the room, I hear Roselyn... no... Blade's cry: "You can't touch me there!" and then a door slamming. As Mum and Dad burst into the room, I walk over to the wall, and place my ear on it. "Who the hell are you?" I hear Blade's shriek. A very quiet voice, probably female, is speaking, but I can't hear what she is saying. "I didn't do this for you! I did it for me! I mean, if I'm going to die, which I'm not anytime soon, I might as well die with some sort of honour!" Blade tells the girl. I give up on Blade's conversation with the stranger, and turn to face my parents, who are huddled against each other, like a cold wind is blowing on them from every direction. The tears don't stop now. I rush over to them, and they hug me, Mum sobbing in my hair, and Dad awkwardly patting my back. After a little while, my dad says "There's no use telling you you're going to win, is there?" I somehow laugh at the very backwards remark my Dad just made. "No. But you can tell me I'm allowed to open that microchip."  
"Kid," He says, kneeling down with effort to look me in the eye, "You're not going to survive long, I'm not going to take away this last thing from you."  
"Thank-"  
"Times up!" I see my parents for the last time, shoved out the door again, by the white-clothed monsters we call Peacekeepers. Far from it.


	7. District 4 Reaping

**AUTHOR NOTE! I really hope you guys and girls are enjoying the story! Sorry about grammatical mistakes, spelling errors etc... Any questions, as me via PM, and I'll answer them in the next chapter. Also, the SYOT is closed, I forgot to mention that in the last chapter... Sorry... Well, heres District 4! Review, favourite and follow! XD**

*****Avalon Caspian POV*****

"Avalon... Avalon..." I groan at the unwelcome voice. "Avalon! Hurry up! We've got to go!" My eyes snap open. "What, now?" I ask the boy sitting on my bed. Ray smiles devilishly at me. "Ray!" I look out the window, looking past Ray's messy bed, and see that it is still dark. I'm about to give him a look, when he grabs my hand, presses his finger to his lips in an attempt to make me quiet, and rushes silently out of the bedroom. We go towards the back door, and rush to the back fence. I can't run as fast as Ray, and I keep tripping over things on the way there. I finally reach the wall, and Ray helps me up. We sit on the cold stone wall, leaning against each other, with his arm around me facing the sea. "Avalon, one of us may get reaped. We've both had to sign up for tesserae, and the odds aren't entirely in our favour." He starts, making fun of the silly Capitol accent everyone makes fun of. "This may be the last normal sunset we see together." He finishes, and I smile at him.  
"I hope not." We laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, and fall silent again. Ray turns toward me, his arm still around me, and looks me in the eye. I look into his dark blue ones, and he my emerald ones. A weight is lifted off of my right shoulder, and I immediately want the comfort of his arm back. But he's now twirling a piece of my dark brown hair in between his fingers. "Come on, Avalon. We should get ready now." I don't want to leave this place, this time. "I don't want to!" I cry, jumping off of the fence, and stealing one last glance at the beach I leave behind. "Yeah, well, the thing is, Avalon, No one wants to." He tells me, walking behind me. I turn around and face him, holding out a hand to stop him from walking any further. "Yes, Avalon?" He asks.  
"Look, Ray, if I get reaped today, I just want you to know... I..." I don't know how to finish my sentence, but I am enveloped in Ray's big arms anyway. "You won't get reaped. And if you do," He looks me in the eye again. "You will win, OK?"  
"Thanks, Ray." I smile.  
"Kids! Time to wake up!" Lana'a voice is heard yelling from somewhere in the house.  
"Kids?" She must see we're not in our beds.  
"Here Mum! We're coming!" Ray yells back back to Lana.  
"Get your butts inside! The reaping's today, you know!" We rush inside, knowing what reaping day means. Special food. Something other than fish. "The food is the only thing I like about reaping day!" Ray exclaims, sitting down at the table, looking at the small bird on his plate. "The only thing annoying about living by the sea is that the fish are so common. Fish for breakfast, lunch and dinner most days!" I laugh at him, and realise how much truth is in that. Mum and I have only lived with Lana and Ray for a month or so, but we know how things work. Lana goes to work, and Mum cleans the house, and Ray and I go to school. Everything works out well for everyone. Lana has to do less, and Mum and I have a guaranteed place to stay. Plus food. Food always helps.

I'm in the new dress Lana got me, a sea-green shimmery thing, and am tying my long hair up in the massive hairtie that came with it. Then someone knocks on the door. "Come in." I tell them. The massive oak door creaks with old age as my mother walks in. "Hi, Mum!" I smile.  
"Darling, you look beautiful!" She beams.  
"Thanks, Mum." I walk over to my bed, and pull out the white sandals I got before Dad lost his job. They didn't fit properly then, but they are perfect now. I sit back on my bed, next to Mum, and ask her: "Do you think Dad will be there today?" She freezes, and sighs, knowing I won't give up on this question.  
"It depends on how drunk he is, honey. I'm... I'm not sure if he actually misses us." A sob escapes her throat, and I find myself reinforcing Mum's decision to leave. "Mum, he could have done anything. He is strong, Mum, and we aren't. We needed to leave that place, otherwise anything could have happened. You said so yourself. I know you miss him, and so do I. But he's not safe to be around. We're safe here, Mum."  
"Thanks honey, I love you." She hugs me, and I realise her response was a little too quick for my liking.

***Murray "Ray" Larz's POV***

"Sully, Sully, get up, dude!" I tell my little brother who's still asleep. "Sully! Get up!" I say, a little more forcefully, shaking his shoulder. 'Mrrmmmph," He moans, finally awake. "Dude, reaping day. You might want to get up, and eat. Mum and Dad have prepared something for us to eat." I walk out of his light blue room, and into the kitchen. "Morning, Dad!" I exclaim. "Morning, Ray! Want some eggs?" He asks, gesturing to the eggs on the massive plate in the middle of the table, complete with toast.  
"Yes please!" I plonk myself down at my spot at the table, and begin piling up my plate. Then, a shuffling sound is heard from the door of the kitchen. Sully groans, and sits down next to me. "Eggs?" I ask, holding out the plate to him. "Yes please." He grumbles. "Someone's not a morning person!" I laugh, earning me a light punch to the arm. Dad chuckles from behind his plate of eggs. "Where's Mum?" I ask, making conversation.  
"Gone to see your Aunty."  
"Oh. Thanks." Makes sense, really. Mum and Aunty are close, because they are sisters.  
"Good eggs, Dad."  
"Thanks, son." The front door opens, and Mum walks in, struggles against the door, which is being thrown around by the wind, and slams the door accidentally, earning a laugh from Dad. She looks around at us, and realises we are there. "Hi Eula!" Dad says.  
"Hi Baston." Mum says, leaning down to give Dad a kiss. "Ewwwww! Mum and Dad kissed!" Sully cries, now fully awake. The rest of us laugh, and Sully eventually joins in.  
"So, boys, reaping today, huh?"  
"Yeah. My first." Sully looks down at his plate, and the room seems to have dropped a few degrees. I shiver.  
"Ray, how you feel?" Dad looks at me from the sink, where he is now washing his plate.  
"I'm... I'm kind of nervous, and glad I went to the Training centre those few times." I tell my family truthfully.  
"Yeah, although it's illegal, I'm glad you went, too." Mum tells me, after finishing her mouthfull of egg.  
"I've finished breakfast, I'm going to get dressed." I stand up, and place my plate in the sink, and walk down the hallway. First on the right is my room. I walk over to the cupboard holding my clothes, and pull out the first decent-looking clothes I find. A dark blue dress shirt, a black pair of pants, and my dark brown shoes. "I'm ready!" I call to my Mum who's probably still getting her self ready.  
"Do your hair!" Came the reply. She knows me too well. I walk into the bathroom, and over to the mirror. I pick up the comb from the side of the sink, and I run the black plastic through my dirty blonde hair. "Hey... uh... Ray..."  
"Yeah Sully? I ask my little brother who's just come in.  
"Can I have help?" I laugh, because he's done his hair all wrong.  
"Come here!" I laugh. He slowly walks to the sink, and I wet the comb. In quick movements, his hair looks like it should, and not like he hasn't touched a comb in a couple of years.  
"Come on, I'm ready. Let's go." I tell him, walking out the door.  
"Stop, boys!" Mum calls. Of course.  
"Yes Mum?" I ask Mum, who's closing her bedroom door.  
"I just wanted to see how you look. You look great. Come on!" We follow her out of the front door, and into the street, where the wind is still blowing everything everywhere. Dad struggles against the door, and we walk towards the Justice Building. There are people everywhere, and because I'm taller than most, I get the wind straight to the face. Great.

We are all situated at the Justice Building, and the silly escort is walking over to the stage, and in front of the microphone. The wind is making this am impossibility for her, her wig is going everywhere, and the microphone keeps falling over. If it weren't the reaping, it would be quite funny. "I... uh... I welcome you all... not again! I welcome you all to the 76th reaping for the 76th... uh... I welcome you to the reaping for the 76th annual Hunger Games! Is that right? I think so." That was painful. If she weren't from the Capitol, I would feel sorry for her. Because no one feels like feeling sorry for her, or wants to laugh, she is met with silence. "Here's a film from the Capitol." That film again. I tune out, as she walks over to the glass ball.

*****Avalon Caspian POV*****

I really feel like laughing at that stupid escort. But no one else is. She walks to the glass ball, and says something weird. "For once, I'm going to do the boys first!" She reaches her hand in the ball... and... "Murray," I freeze. Not my best friend Ray! "Larz." I sigh a big sigh of relief. There's more than one ray in District 4. I look up to where Murray Larz is walking up the stage. A voice is heard behind him, saying: "I volunteer-"  
"Oh no you don't." Murray cuts him off.  
"Murray! Come sit down. No, don't. There's no where to sit." Murray looks awkward, taller than the escort. "Stand there." She commands. "Now for the girls!" I gulp. This could be me. "Avalon Caspian!" It is me. Everyone around me makes a circle around me, and I look around. There's no other Avalon Caspian in District 4. I take a deep breath, and put on a big smile. If I'm going to go in, I'm going to look good doing it. As I walk, I look around the boy's section, and look at Ray. My friend Ray. He has his head in his hands, and doesn't realise I'm looking at him. My smile falters a little, but I put it back on, cheerful as ever. My dark hair is still getting whipped around everywhere, and I'm struggling to stand on the stairs properly. I stumble up the stairs, and nearly fall over walking up. I'm not usually this clumsy. "Come shake hands with Murray." The escort tells me, holding one hand out to me, and one holding her wig in place. I shake hands with Murray, and he smiles sadly at me, with a strong grip. I'm in the Hunger Games. I'm in the Hunger Games. I can't believe it.


	8. District 5 Reaping

**I forgot to mention this... but if I spell something like 'Mum' instead of 'Mom' or 'realise' instead of 'realize' its because I'm from New Zealand. We spell like the British, and Australian. Deal with it. JK :D**

*****Astrid Romeburg's POV*****

I sit at the breakfast table, twirling my silver necklace around and around my fingers, and untwisting it again.  
"Hurry up and eat your damned food please, Astrid!" My mother demands, holding my baby sister Kiana on her hip, and feeding her with a spoon. Kiana looks at me, and she must think that Mother yelling at me is some sort of game, because she laughs at me, her blue eyes sparkling, and her fine blonde hairs catching the sunlight. I take a mouthful of the bread in front of me, and Mother has yet another demand for me.  
"When you're finished eating, you can get ready, and tidy your room."  
"Give her a break! It's reaping day today!" Dad walks in, fully awake, and clothed. "Get yourself changed, and eat, please." He walks over to Mother, taking Kiana off of her, and starts feeding her, making baby noises which she loves. Then, Mother storms out of the room, obviously upset that Dad essentially told her off for yelling at me. "Thanks, Dad!" I smile at him, and he's still making baby noises at Kiana. I laugh at him, as he asks me to go and wake my brother. I walk into Talon's room, and Jump on his bed. "Talon! TALON!" I yell, while jumping on his bed. "What...? Astrid?" I rush out of his room. Talon is the only one I can be weird around, and the only one who sees through my arrogant demeanour. I wander into my room, like I didn't just leap on my 17-year-old brother's bed. Oh well. I woke him up, at least! I open one of the drawers on my dresser, and pull out the outfit I've planned to wear today for a while. I pull on the grey shirt, and then the pleated skirt a shade darker than the shirt. I look in the mirror, and realise I look very monotonous. I was planning to wear my black laceups... Oh well. I'll wear my pink ballet flats. Still very monotonous... Aha! My pink cardigan will go perfectly! I laugh at my ingenuity, and waltz out of my room after putting the cardigan on, into the bathroom. I realise I never even brushed my hair, and run a comb through the shoulder-length auburn tresses. "Astrid! You ready yet?" My Mother screeches at me, from the lounge, presumably. I really do not like her sometimes. "I'm ready!" I yell, rushing out of the bathroom, my hair finally looking presentable. At the front door, Talon stands looking awkward in nice clothing, and Mum and Dad look pretty good, considering their age, and Kiana is lying on the floor, about to be picked up by Mum. "Hurry up! We're late!" Mother informs me pleasantly. Not.  
"Hestia, leave her alone."  
"Karl! Do not talk-" Mother is cut off.  
"If you two would please stop arguing for five seconds, we won't get shot, because we could get to the damned Justice Building." Talon interjects Mother.  
"TALON! How dear you talk to me like that! I'm your mother!"  
"Yeah, and we're dead meat if we don't get there in time!" Kiana chooses this moment to start crying, and I grab Talon's wrist and drag him out the door, just so he doesn't face any of Mother's wrath. "Come on, we had better get going." I tell him, after shutting the heavy wooden door. We see all the other kids, and I catch the eye of one of my friends, Kal. "Hey Kal!" I exclaim, despite the grim feeling everyone else has saved for this day. She smiles back at me, and we walk to the Justice Building together, me walking slightly faster than Kal, only because I'm eager to lose my parents. "Hi Astrid!" says one of the younger boys from school. I shoot him a dirty look, and continue walking. By now, the crowds are getting thicker, and as I go to get my finger pricked, I lose Kal, but find her again afterwards, as we walk to the 15-year-old's section.

*****Spark Challenge's POV*****

It's not fair. Life seriously isn't fair for someone like me. I live with my mother, who is seriously overworked. My little sister, Sammy, the only person who genuinely seems to like me was adopted by a elderly woman in the rich part of town. She left me when my father was murdered by the Capitol. This fact alone, that he was brutally murdered, fuels my eternal hatred for the Capitol. And now, starting from today, I have to watch yet another 23 kids get murdered all for the entertainment for the bloodthirsty, horrible inhabitants of the place. That is why, when I go to get my finger pricked, I'm going to try as hard as I can to not get pricked. "Spark, wake up please." My mother tells me, not realising I'm already awake. "Coming M... Mum!" I call out to her. "Make your own breakfast please, I want this day off!"  
"Yes, Mum." I walk into our tiny kitchen, and look at the bare cupboard. A stale half-loaf of bread, and some cheese about to go mouldy. Not quite 'bad' food, yet, but certainly not 'good' either. This meal is a far cry from the delicious and plentiful food we had back before Dad got murdered. Most say he 'died' but I know that's not true. He was murdered. I sigh, and try to forget about the nightmares that had haunted me for so long. As I pull the slightly stale bread and the cheese out of the cupboard, I think about who might get reaped from District 5 this year. Maybe it could be one from the rich part of District 5. The ones who haven't missed a meal. Or maybe it could be a kid who has to work, as well as their parents, for every meal. Someone who might actually have a chance of winning. I wish for it to not be me. "You finished yet?" Mum asks me. "Of c... course," I reply "I'm going to get ready, OK?"  
"OK. Be quick."  
I wander into the small room I call my bedroom, and glance at the hastily folded pile of clothes on the floor by my mattress. In it, I'm sure, is a brown shirt, and tan khakis. One of the few things left over from our days of doing well, of having money, of never skipping a meal. I put on the small brown shirt, and the sleeves seem slightly too small, and realise the tan khakis are too short in the leg. "Mum! My reaping clothes are too small!" I call out.  
"Too bad!" Comes the answer. I look ridiculous. I'm just going to have to live with it. "I'm ready Mum, let's go." I tell her.  
"Alright." She walks out of her room, with an old necklace from our rich days, and looks gorgeous in it. "You look n... nice, Mum!" I tell her.  
"Thanks." We walk towards the Justice Building in silence. As we get there, I see a couple of the popular girls. Astrid, and her friend... Kal! I pay more attention to Astrid than I do her friend... I glance at the dreary surroundings, and realise the dark mood everyone seems to be in. Despite the bright banners the Capitol has put up around the square, there is a sad kind of aura around everyone. The extra Peacekeepers, the cameramen on the roofs, and the massive screen don't help the mood. I subconsciously move along the line of children walking to get their fingers pricked. At a seat behind a table is a woman dressed in Peacekeeper's uniforms, but her head and face are exposed, showing wrinkles, which means years of being a Peacekeeper. I involuntarily shiver, and realise it's my turn to get pricked. I slowly, shakily place my hand forward... and jerkily pull it back. I'm too late, and the woman grabs it, and forces the foreign needle in my finger, and shoves my finger she just pricked onto the piece of paper, and scans it with another hand-held device. She tells me I'm done, and I'm surprised I wasn't shot for resisting a Peacekeeper. I guess everyone's feeling a little generous today, knowing 23 children will be sent to their deaths. I'm just hoping I'm not one of them.  
"Spark! Spark!" I hear a familiar voice behind me. "Sammy! Hey! H.. how are you?" I ask my little sister. "I'm good," She answers, "She's nice to me. I miss you though." It seems as though she genuinely misses me. "I miss you too, S... Sam," I start, "But I have to go now..." I walk towards the roped out section for 13-year-olds. As soon as I stand there, that bloody escort wobbles on-stage. "Welcome! To the reaping of the 76th annual Hunger Games!" She throws up her hands, as if expecting a round of applause. She is met with silence. "Well, how about we go for the boys first?" How about no! She reaches into the glass ball on the left, and pulls out a white slip of paper. "Spark Challenge!" I sigh with relief, then remember my name. I'm Spark Challenge, and I'm out of here. I take off, with the only sounds being my feet hitting the pavement, and the blood rushing to my ears. Before I know it, I'm thrown to the ground, and my nose hits the concrete below me. I'm dragged to my feet, and I see the white of Peacekeeper, and the red of blood. My own blood.

*****Astrid Romeburg's POV*****

I'm not sure why that weirdo Spark ran off like he did. I'm pretty sure he's not coming back in one piece. Then, I hear deep, heavy footsteps from behind me, and I, along with everyone else, turn around to face the sound. The Spark kid is being half-dragged, half-carried by a couple of Peacekeepers. They pull him onto the stage, where the escort is waiting, in her electric blue clothes and sickly yellow hair. Spark looks dejected, and now finally sombre, as the Peacekeepers hold him firmly so he doesn't try a stunt like that again. The escort regains her composure, as she walks to the other ball. I gulp, and wish for not only my safety, but also Kal's. But wishing that it wasn't me didn't help a single bit. I'm going to die in the next couple of weeks. I take a deep breath, and try to move my feet. Nothing happens. A rough hand pushes me, and as I don't expect it, I fall, and my wrist bends at an unhealthy angle. It takes everything I have to not scream out in pain. But I know I will be doing just that in a week or so. And not because of a sprained ankle. Something worse, definitely.


End file.
